Bringing it to the people

Apologies in advance for the double Anglophilia of these last posts.  But it's now the end of October, and so it's time for the second set of video blogs from British beer writer Pete Brown, and the brewer Peter Amor.  So I thought I would share, along with a few words about why I think what they are doing is a great idea.

First, Pete's video blog.   (Sadly, I have to link to them since vimeo won't allow them to be embedded.) The idea is to go around to different regions of the UK, trying craft brews (and also cask ales) and talking about them.  The idea is sort of two fold.  It promotes regional and craft brews, as well as promoting cask ales.  At the same time, it's meant to introduce people who may not have a lot of experience with these beers to their flavors and aromas.  (Okay, maybe that's three four more than two goals.)

I was excited about the first entry, and very thirsty after.  This second one is really good too.  He's not always terribly smooth in front of the camera (who is?), but he does a good job I think of expressing some of the joys of drinking these beers, and I really like his attempts to talk about the actual flavors and aromas of the beers in a non-technical way, tied more to the drinker's experience than the ingredients or the brewer's perspective.  This is amazingly hard to do -- ever tried to actually tell someone what the hop character in your favorite IPA is like?  What do you say once you get past "piney" or "citrusy"?

But what I really wanted to mention in this post was the accompanying video blog by Peter Amor.  These ones are different.  They are not about any particular beers, but rather they are about the brewing process.  The first entry seemed a bit stiff to me, but this one I think is great.  It's a very concise overview of the brewing process that is aimed at the layperson, but is both technically right and informative, without getting into extraneous detail.  Again, that's really hard to do!  A bit of Google-ing shows that Amor got his start brewing for Guinness before starting the Wye Valley Brewery in 1985.  Especially in this second video blog, I think Amor does a terrific job of showing the process and getting across the main technical details from a brewer's perspective, without making it seem like a lecture.

So great idea.  Good for them for trying to bring the love of beer to a wider audience.  And glad we are starting to see some of the same thing in the US; props to folks like Michael Agnew for helping to do a similar thing locally as well.

Beer Styles

There is an interesting discussion going on within British beer blogs about styles and whether they matter right now.  The overview of where this discussion is coming from is on Pencil and Spoon, linked here, Pete Brown provides a more skeptical take here.  As is often the case, the really interesting back and forth happens in the comments.

I'm a BJCP guy, but I don't read the style guidelines as gospel.  (In part because I know many of the people responsible for putting the document together and I know the debates they have among themselves.  And I know that someone like Gordon Strong is not dogmatic about the styles, even though he is an evangelist for them in a certain way.  This gets theologically complex...)  What I will say is that it's worth noting that a good portion of the discussion gets caught up with the Brewers' Association proliferation of styles, which has always struck me as stupid.  I know it has a purpose in the industry, but it just reeks of "everyone gets a gold star!"

Regardless, I responded to the discussion on Pete Brown's blog, and I thought I would add the text of my comments here, since it sums up what I've been saying privately on the subject for some time.

I really don't understand the way that a lot of the discussion tries to distinguish between creativity and styles. (And let me say right out front that I agree, it is stupid for the BA to have so many styles -- it seems designed for the sole purpose of handing out as many medals as possible.) 

Styles are not the rigid things that they are made out to be. Sure, some styles (often German ones) are narrower -- proper German style pilsners have certain characteristics, fall into a narrow gravity range, and so forth. But they are evolving things, and for most of us there is no rule to say we have to or even should brew rigidly to style. 

So why bother with the styles? Adrian Tierney-Jones was right to point to novels. I think painting is a better metaphor. There are certainly artistic styles that are recognized. Most artists want to make their own mark, and yet understanding the styles and how they evolved is important to most serious painters. Also note how even the innovators spend a lot of time mastering the tricks of different styles before they figure out how to make their own break from them. Picasso did a lot of copies of older masters. Rauchenberg and others have more recently done their own copies of Picasso! 

To take Pete's example in a different direction, cooking is similar. Maybe the average cook can do seven (or whatever) recipes. But if you are aiming to be a chef -- that is, make a mark with your own twist on cooking, for example in your own restaurant, then knowing the tricks of given cooking styles and flavors (which themselves emerge in different regions as a result of different climates, crops, and cultures) is important. Admitting that there is a recognized style of Southern Italian cooking (or Thai, or Gujarati or whatever) is not the same as saying that nothing new can be done. 

The point is, beer styles are a way to start a productive conversation with beer drinkers and brewers. It's hard to have a conversation without any common language or set of working concepts. No one has to brew "to style" but knowing some common points of reference is still a good thing.

On finding great things when you don't expect them

Sometimes the nicest things come when you don't expect them.  Like driving all day and ending up at a motel pretty much in the middle of nowhere,  hungry and tired and ready to murder your family.  And then getting a beer and a pork sandwich that are so good they bring a tear to your eye.

Could this just be the result of low expectations?  Maybe, but for whatever reason, the starts aligned this night.  We're in Lebabon, Indiana.  That's just past Indianapolis for most of you that care.  We've driven all day, starting out in DC, and making it this far by 8:30 pm, when we can't go further.  We've also taken a wrong turn, argued, and battled traffic in a construction zone for the last half hour.  Nicole books a Holiday Inn Express room via iPhone, exit 40 off Highway 65.  We check in.  I'm very hungry and in need of a beer.  Kids are teetering on the fine edge between humanity and what happens when you don't feed them.

Nicole asks the desk clerk about the barbecue place we see down the street. (There's also a KFC, a White Castle, and a Taco Bell.  Expectations sink lower.  To be fair, there's also a Subway and a pancake place.)  The guy at the desk says that the barbecue place is alright, but we should go to the bar and grill just down the way.  Perfect.

Is it a warehouse?

Wait, is that it?  Looks like a warehouse.  We pass it, go to a rundown old downtown.  Nope.  Turn around -- and yep, that's it.  The sign is only visible from the other side.  It's called "The Warehouse."  They can't get a lot of highway traffic this far from the exit, but it is a huge open room, almost empty.  Spirits revive at the thought of food, but expectations aren't much higher.  But there is a booth open, and the waitress is about the nicest person in the world.  And they have the Cardinals game on.  (Also, puzzle placemats for the kids, with a thing asking what the nine planets are.   Bit out of date....)

The waitress asks us for drinks order first. They don't have Stella despite the table tents touting their $2 Stella drafts.  But they've got Bud....Oh, and also Hoegaarden and Guinness on draft, she says. Nicole has a Hoegaarden, I get the Guinness. Guinness comes in a proper 20 oz glass.  Hoegaarden comes in half liters for God's sake, and I'm jealous. It isn't till later that I learn that the Hoegaarden is also $4.  Both are fresh. To review: Four dollar half liters of Hoegaarden at the local bar and grill in Lebanon, Indiana.  Things are looking up.

The food is slow.  But the menu is much better than I dared to hope for.  And when the food comes, it's fantastic.  Charlie gets the chicken fingers off the kids menu.  They actually look like bits of chicken.  I get the pork tenderloin sandwich, with lettuce, tomato, onion and pickles.  It's not the breaded/frozen/fried thing that you usually find, but a fresh, grilled tenderloin.  It's really good.  Nicole has the catfish hoagie.  The catfish is light, flaky, and very peppery.  Sam gets the pulled pork sandwich which I usually avoid on principle.  But this is the surprise of the day.  It's a heaping bunch of pork, nicely smoky, not dry but not greasy, sauced very lightly.  It's not up to NC pork standards but it is not far off.  Nice bit of coleslaw on top.  

Dark bar, big beer, flaky catfish, happy wife.

This place is a gem.